Gypsy Camp - The Romanyi

An un-Christmas

2006-12-25T08:31:00.000-08:00

The Rom of old, camped for a hundred years in the 'beautiful valley' at the foot of Mount Tigor would not have celabrated Christmas as we -- but Solstice most certainly -- always a reason for dance and song

and to welcome a traveling Bard from Moravia
.........................................................................................................

This would be best, methinks, sung in the Trevere' style in which each verse can be presented in a different meter and tune to meet the mood of the audience. Thus the singer can use any method to which their passion drives them.

Three Voices

CHORUS:
He came with staff, came with lute, here with twinkling eye.
Hid within, three voices sure, songs of earth and sky.

Buckskin boots scarce touch the grass, bard of silent moon.
Cloak of simple homespun, seized by ring of bone.
Laughter like bells aringing, strong voice wind in the trees.
No weapon did he hold, no foe on land or seas.

CHORUS:

His first voice was that of an ancient Jongleur bold,
Magic song trembling low to tell of ballads old.
Then lyric swing to heaven's height, to seize soul's claim
On dreams of knights and honor, and true archer's aim.

CHORUS:

The second voice could be heard in shadowed glade,
Or by tinkling spring of soft fern and fairie bade.
Whistles, chimes and whispered chant; hear now Mother Earth.
Child laughter, call of the deer, feel the song of birth.

CHORUS:

Voice made three was meant for me, shot into my heart.
Stir quick my soul, make me blush, never to depart.
He strode away into the dawn, lilting song most dear.
Of child now within my loins, he will never hear.

CHORUS (slow - minor key)

Come new - come again

2006-12-17T13:18:00.000-08:00

Fire Draw

You cannot give our fire but a glance,
or walk right by with never a chance
to be one with it and know its heart,
of which death and birth both take part

Huddle close for warmth or skying,
embers pulse with endless dreaming –
gone those discarded writs of sorrow,
smoky prayer for joy tomorrow.

Far the mountain of bright yearning,
forgotten more the sea left churning.
Claim the now by fire’s entrancing –
be one with all who fuel its burning.

Join the campfire of Gypsy haven,
sense the presence of nighttime Raven;
share food and drink and storied wonder,
growing, learning from one another.

faucon

Bag Lady

2006-12-12T07:23:00.000-08:00

A frail shapeless form pushing a rickity cart
dropped a fraying coat --
and in giving it to her
I looked into her eyes.

papa
....................................................................................

BAG LADY

They had called her a traveler
‘cause she wandered hither gone;
but in truth she was only lost,
being forgotten long from home.

They had fancied her a Gypsy
‘since she danced with silver bells,
but in truth her swirled colored skirts
were from a wash-line fair and found.

The thought her but a withered crone
as she mem’ried n’er child nor kin;
but in truth she but hid inside,
all the laughter she might have known.

No one looks her quite in the eye
for want of seeing their own fears;
but in truth she danced with sunshine
if they would but expend some time.

I knew her as the girl next door
whom I might have claimed and wed;
but in truth I let love slip away
for hearing mind instead of heart.

So wave to every bag lady
and help them across street ‘n park;
for it truth she’s just like yer mom
‘cept I took simple trust away.

Gypsy Wanderer

2006-12-04T08:10:00.000-08:00

I appreciate your comment about the incredible sunset of Trigor and would show it here also for those avoiding a 'Tour'. But also find a glimpse of sunrise across the meadow which was once home to early Gypsies.

faucon (also a Golden Eagle of Trigor)
........................................................................................

as a bit of Gypsy magic, I wrote to the photographer of the SunSet picture, telling him of what I was doing with early myths of Karantania which might lead to a book, and he has given permission to use this photo (selling for hunders of dollars) as the cover. "If you don't ask ..."

Happy Birthday, Vi

2006-11-28T15:18:00.000-08:00

Gypsies dance because:

In spite of its worries,
In spite of its fears,
In spite of its sorrows,
In spite of its tears,
In spite of its heartaches,
In spite of its woes -
Life is just beautiful,
So dance on your toes.

The image is from the website of the touring New Zealand Gypsy Fair.

First Fire

2006-11-28T06:54:00.000-08:00

Many new friends are arriving at the Gypsy Camp,
and all are invited to stand in the flickering shadows
to sing or tell a ballad or story or prayer --
these give more warmth than the glowing embers.

I will start things off -- not a Bard for naught --
and will tell you something of my home and haven
at Sakin'el. Sung in two voices

faucon
.........................................................................

Sakin’el Hush

And the Bard sang by the fire bright …

“If you will do this in trust and love
then Sakin'el will live anew,
and at each splendid sunset kiss
you will hear the faint 'Silent Breeze'
of ever profound inner peace.”

“but what will I hear,” asked the maiden faire,
with teasing eyes and coquettish aire?

“draw close to the flowers with petaled dew
and look at the reflection there,
while gentle bees caress the wind
and hum of sweet nectared dreams
soon lost to age and vanity.”

“how loud is the sound,” mused the withered crone,
with vacant eyes who slept alone?

“the trees will thunder and the stones will shout
if you stand as one ‘pon the path;
while holding hands can mute the din
and change the music to quiet song
best heard from the lips of a friend.”

“do they tell stories,” requested the youth
with wand’ring spirit searching truth?

“brave soldiers on horseback beat steady drums
and dragons breathe through piercing flutes
and Viking ships sound a longing horn,
calling to arms companions true
to follow a quest most daring.”

“are they ever hushed,” sighed the tonsured priest
whose fervant prayers never ceased.

“if one can be silent they sing the same
and echo spirit’s harmony
to a song of Light and knowing,
where heart strings are plucked
b y an angelic choir in love.”

“can I sing along,” laughed the little elf
with innocent mirth beside himself.

“if you sing ‘belong’ and soon join right in
and dance a lick and whistle now,
then birds chirp in and clouds applaud
the music of humanity,
gifted by the morning dawn.”

“can I then just sit and watch,” cried the child
with remembered touch beguiled.”

“to live life is to surly embrace life
and conduct an orchestra grand,
where you will coax your soul to sing
and blend with whispers of Tegsh
as she accomp’nies even me.”

More Snow

2006-11-27T20:18:00.000-08:00

More snow, all last night, and all day today, it just kept falling, a clean white sound suffocating blanket of fresh snow. Few wandered out. It not being walker or cane friendly weather, I stayed in at gazed at it through the window, although briefly I did go out to walk my dog. I negotiated with extra cookies to get him to come back in. He could have played in it hours longer. The city is ill prepared for so much snow, and most stayed home. It is lovely thought, especially in the pre dawn hours, then to walk the dog is ideal, acres of virgin snow and just us and the stars out in it. The sound of the city dampened and my happy Belvedere making like a snow plough with his nose.

Walk through the snow with me...

2006-11-26T20:40:00.000-08:00

I thought you might like to come along

Papa at Peace

2006-11-24T01:27:00.000-08:00

Please read each poem separately,
then together with each line joined as one
...................................................

Found a glade where.......... Sought in heart today
Fresh water springs .......... recycled Godess tears
Where shady trees ............ speak in shadowed mirth
stretch their arms ............. tapping Mother Earth
over the water's edge......... in a pool of silent birh.
Found a place where ......... there’s found in place
You and I can sit and talk........... souls touch and grace
of times past............... mem’ries of tomorrow
Times to come .......... caressed in yesterday,
And other irrelevancies............ not related but as one.
Found a quiet spot ...................Looking between the leaves
where we can lay ......................and spirits overlay
down our arms..................... around and bound
Let the battle travel ............in rest bequest
on for a spell. .......................foretold as dream.
From Lavengro.................. by the Gusari

Peace for Papa

2006-11-23T17:43:00.000-08:00

Found a glade where

Fresh water springs

Where shady trees

stretch their arms

over the water's edge.

Found a place where

You and I can sit and talk

of times past

Times to come

And other irrelevancies

Found a quiet spot

where we can lay

down our arms

Let the battle travel

on for a spell.

From Lavengro

In Response to: A Place to Keep Our Horses

2006-11-23T08:35:00.000-08:00

She Was But a Barn

She stood forlorn in a worn out field,
an aging, wrinkled crone.
Though unsung,
she rivaled the classic architecture of old Europe.

There were no signs or souvenirs,
no mention in a guide book.
No tourists flocked to view her—
she was but a barn.
Her history was hardly grandiose.
She was but a simple monument to the brave
but ordinary folk
who settled hereabouts.

Each winter, snow lay heavy on her roof,
each spring she sagged a little more.
How many seasons could she have stood to tell
that some humble pioneer homesteaded here?

One morning when I walked that way,
I saw the sign, new and brightly coloured,
it proclaimed development—
Eighty homes, a strip mall, and a filling station
would replace my piece of history.

With swimming eyes, I climbed the fence
and walked through the dry and crackling grass.
I entered through the double doors,
one hung precariously, the other one was down
and molding into dust.
Once inside I stood in silent homage
to what soon would be no more.
Weeds grew through the floor,
surviving despite the gloom.
Old straw had crumpled into dust
in stalls where once horses rested.
Swallows in darkened corners
would nest here no more,
nor would they make music in the rafters.
Blue sky shone through gaps while
Dust filled God beams
searched mouse tracks below.

She was alive that day, my barn, old friend.
Her timbers creaked and groaned
as I sat, my back against a crumbling stall,
and whispered my good bye.

I left that day with heavy heart.
She had been a friend so long,
watching me, each day as I walked by
in rain or shine, snow or freezing cold.
I took one last long look, then turned my back.
There was nothing I could do to help her.
She had no historic value,
Only architectural charm.
She was but a simple barn
Built by gnarled hands and sweat.

I walk that way no longer
Now that my friend has gone.

Vi Jones
©November 23, 2006

A Place to keep our horses

2006-11-23T06:28:00.000-08:00

Nesled by the fire

2006-11-22T08:47:00.000-08:00

I might just sit by the fire a bit and litsen to other tell stories,
though a few dancing girls are always in order --
but I do have a story to tell of the hospital.

The doctor said I could not go home until my blood pressure
dropped to a more normal lever (then at 155/85)
I asked what was acceptable seeing that my norm is 126/78.

He said that 130 would be incredible. So I told him to return in a half hour,
and imagined myself by the Gypsy fire with friends and 'forced' my figures down
to 124/76 -- and am now home.

papa

seeded by Fran's freefall writing course

2006-11-16T05:52:00.000-08:00

I slip between the veils of two worlds,
'twixt sleep and dreaming,
between memory and anticipation
drifting on the current of mist rising from the fields in the early mornings,
in the sun's rays, on a leaf being carried down the stream,
caught in an occasional eddy
where I spiral uncontrollably until,
snagged on a hook of rock, I'm cast forth once again.
I drift upwards in the smoke of an autumn bonfire,
bright sparks flowering golden against the night sky,
a flower that lasts but a few seconds, withers and dies.
On a vapour from a pot of stew I rise,
tantalising the nostrils of the gypsy bent over the fire,
sparks of light flashing off her golden earrings and from the lights in her eyes.

Dream Seeds for Gypsies

2006-11-15T13:39:00.000-08:00

New Gypsies are arriving in the Gypsy Camp and

Enchanteur brings fresh dream seeds to the Gypsy Camp for a potting session.

divining the divine

2006-11-14T19:22:00.000-08:00

Hello, gypsy friends.......tis I, Tambouree, and here is my reading, nut shell, nut meat, and cracked open to say as much as I would have. I hear the low rattle of dried rattlesnake shakers and the violin raising it voice to say I am on the cusp of major change and wanting to fall in love with my life all over again.

Tambouree
whose skirts are swirling to "Take Me To The River"

Knight of Cups - Reversed in the Cover position.Indicates the querent in relationship to the present situation.The Knight of Cups reversed is warning you about an untrustworthy man in your life. He is idle, selfish, and incapable of telling the truth.

Queen of Discs in the Cross position.Represents the positive forces or assets in the querent's favor. If this card should happen to be a negative card, it indicates the nature of an obstacles that is hindering progress. (The card in this position is always interpreted in its upright manner.)She is strong and independent, practical, and very fond of good food, clothes, possessions, and pleasure. She can be a good friend when it suits her, but she is capable of using others for her own ends.

The Knight of Discs in the Beneath position.Can be viewed as a message from the "higher self." It can also reflect the querent's potential aspirations.The Knight of Discs may appear in your life in the shape of a young man who will set for you an example of the virtues of hard work, patience, and gentleness. As a friend or a lover he is faithful and dependable. He is, however, rather intolerant of impractical people.

Knight of Wands in the Crown position.Represents past events and influences that color and give rise to the current situation.The Knight of Wands loves a challenge and is virtually fearless, thriving on the stimulation of danger and risk. The Knight is a warm, generous, loveable character who makes a wise and loyal friend, though his temper is quick to flare up if he thinks anyone is abusing his generosity.

6 of Wands - Reversed in the Behind position.Represents the preoccupation of the subconscious which filters into waking life, affecting moods and outlook. This is the underlying theme of dreams and the emotional undercurrent in the querent's life.The Six of Wands reversed in your spread indicates that you will receive some bad news.

The Wheel in the Before position.Represents the state of the querent's relationships with others.This card indicates that the wind of change is blowing, but the seeming sudden changes that occur come as the results of past efforts - whether for good or ill - though they will lead to a new phase in your life when you will grow enormously. It calls upon you to be sensitive to the ebb and flow of the cycles surrounding you. Things don't always happen when we want them to, but instead when it is their season.

Death in the Self position.Indicates the querent's psychological state and attitudes which can greatly affect the outcome of the matter.This card does not presage a physical death but, like the harvest, marks the end of a cycle in which the seeds of a new one are sown. The card indicates a time of adjustment and mourning, a suspension between the old stage and the new. On a higher level, the Death card can indicate a re-evaluation of your life and a change in your consciousness.

10 of Discs - Reversed in the House position.Represents the querent's environment and unseen forces influencing the situation.The Ten of Discs reversed is warning you that you have become stuck in a rut without realizing it. Wake up and seek new challenges!

3 of Swords in the Hopes position.Indicates the hopes and fears of the querent.The Three of Swords indicates that things have reached rock bottom. Your life is taken up with quarrels and upheavals.

6 of Cups in the Outcome position.Indicates the outcome of the matter.You are trying to escape into the past, which you are remembering as happy and beautiful. Instead of wallowing in nostalgia, use the knowledge you have gained from the past to realize your ambitions in the present.

River breezes,
Tambouree

a nightsong for you.........

2006-11-14T18:47:00.000-08:00

How about a song to introduce myself? Something mellow and sweet with the moon as a backdrop and the stars to serve as voyeurs, as we reminisce on journeys taken thus far, and those to come...........

Fields Of Barley By: the ever-famous, yet departed, Eva Cassidy

You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in fields of gold

So she took her love
For to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold

Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in fields of gold

See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold

I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I've broken
But I swear in the days still left
We'll walk in fields of gold
We'll walk in fields of gold

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold

You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold.........

merely a question...........

2006-11-14T18:34:00.000-08:00

Tambouree, the new gyspy blogger has a question. I sent to the gypsy camp a post which I created at my blog "Plucking The Strings of Life" and it has not shown up at the camp. Is there something I must do to place the post in both my blog and the camp, or that not a possibility? and why are computers not friendly to me? I bet it is age discrimination, or else they despise tambourine playing fools! You may send me a reply and then delete this less than rhapsodic post.

HELP!

Make yourself at home...

2006-11-14T15:40:00.000-08:00

When you arrive at the Gypsy Camp you will be greeted by your very own Gypsy tarot reader. She will give you a tarot reading which you can share with us here if you wish.

You will also be given your own caravan anywhere in the camp that you choose. What colour is your caravan? What does it look like inside? What will you do there? Use it as a writing hideaway, a studio or just sit on the steps and dream?

The Gypsies love to hear your songs and stories, so take inspiration from the free and easy Gypsy life and regale us with poems, tales, legends or art, as we gather round the campfire.

A thousand welcomes to our travellers.

2006-11-14T15:36:00.000-08:00

Welcome, travellers, to the Gypsy Camp!

Lavengro, the Gypsy Chief (who looks a bit like Johnny Depp) and his merry band of gypsies from all over the world are putting on a big party in your honour. There will be dancing around the campfire, singing, good food and drink, but most of all, you tales, songs and art. We at the Gypsy Camp love to share your creativity, so gather round the campfire, grab a baked potato from the ashes (careful, they’re hot!) and a glass of cider from the barrel and share your songs and stories with us.

The Gypsies have also purloined a pair of barn doors (as is their wont) and laid them on the ground for a dance floor, so kick up those heels! Lavengro will want to dance with all the ladies but he particularly adores Heather and Le Enbchanteur, so you may have to get in line.

Yes you have found us

2006-11-14T08:18:00.000-08:00

ah, the tambourine
rattle snake enchantment,
rhythm beat of blood and soul
and call to dance –
tiny footsteps
all in flirtation yet more
as life and pledge and doing
weave in the fire’s blending
of all
and nothing
evermore.

swirl skirt and jangle coins,
tempt me with dreams enchanting –
and then be close at dawning
when the dew
must be taught
to sing.

Have I found you?

2006-11-13T18:09:00.000-08:00

Tis' I Tambouree, sent by L'Enchanteur. Three times I have tried to enter and been snagged by the ugly portal monsters who would have me wander in the dark wood. Three times I have stamped my foot at the doorkeepers and shook my tambourine in their faces. May I come to your fire, and sit with you and rest until I am able to say more?

with eyes peering into the darkness and ears listening for your reply,
Tambouree

Strangers of welcome and glad

2006-11-13T06:34:00.000-08:00

The fire is beyond caring;
both as a task for the two Gypsies till awake,
and for the spirit of embers signing –
knowing it has done its job well –
and invitation offered, met and cherished –

“I understand that strangers will soon arrive,
yet never strangers to passion, dance and fire.”

“Aye – the crones are already foraging for information
that their profound divinations might prevail,
and the maidens are playing at bangles and beads.”

“A bit more wine, my friend, and you will be a poet;
but you might just rosin up yer bow
in case music be what they need.”

“Oh, they will all dance – as well they must,
and our tunes are just an excuse –
they come because they hear a finer tune
plucked on the harp of creation.”

“What can we do then to ease their search?”

“methinks to start a pot of stone soup
to which each may add something of their choosing,
and all might share of the joining.”

“and I will instruct that firewood be gather from afar,
such that these newcomers might easily add to the fire
of fall and found close at hand. There is nothing compared
to bring the child out than to add a gift to the fire.”

“and you again might stumble about,
that they can teach you a step or two of dance,
though I have seen your heels touch the clouds.”

“and you might just sit silent beneath the oak
that they might come and learn of silence too,
and know that the space between the notes,
and hesitation of a falling leaf
is also a dance.”

“Aye, we will be ready …”

Come for a walk with me...

2006-11-12T01:31:00.000-08:00

please join me.

Happy Belated 70th Lois

2006-11-11T21:49:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday for this Milestone, love Monika